A Slight Breeze
by Ro Nordmann
Summary: Katniss Everdeen had dreamt since she was little about living in NYC. She has finally gotten her wish. Between the hubbub and stench of city life, she finds herself a bit lonely. Luckily, a slight breeze changes her whole outlook. Written For PromptsinPanem - Expressions in Everlark - Day 3 - Modern Locations - Visual prompt: NYC


_**A Slight Breeze**_

_Written For PromptsinPanem - Expressions in Everlark - Day 3 - Modern Locations - Visual prompt: NYC_

**Summary**: Katniss Everdeen had dreamt since she was little about living in NYC. She has finally gotten her wish. Between the hubbub and stench of city life, she finds herself a bit lonely. Luckily a slight breeze changes her whole outlook.

:::

It was my first time in the Big Apple. It had been my wish since I was little girl. Here I was standing bewildered by the stench of burned falafel and rotting garbage.

Not to a great start.

But I wasn't going to be deterred from my path. I had come to New York City, to find my place in the world. Somehow, I was awarded a scholarship for my art. No one would've ever thought little Everdeen would amount to much. Time and my efforts had proved them all wrong.

Dad would be so proud. Even in the rancid smells that surrounded me, I felt triumph. It wasn't everyday, a swamp rat could gaze upon the big metropolis. It was only the beginning, but I already felt victorious.

I had left the small town I came from. Full of gossip mongers and has-been dreamers. I would show them, that my father's faith in me would shine.

Between the blaring honks of the yellow cabs, and the smoke from the manholes, I looked up, and up to behold the skyscrapers. I had never seen so many tall buildings. It turned out it was a pain, I already felt a crick in my neck.

As I was massaging it, and trying to see where to go next, a shove pushed me almost into the street.

"HEY! Watch it!"

"Move! Stop staring like a moron! People are walking here!"

Sadly, it wouldn't be the last time someone would be rude and scream at me. I still endured the harsh treatment of the Manhattanites and continued to brave the city streets looking at the must-see sites, taking pictures with my lame cell phone.

Somehow, I ended up at Central Park, wandering like a lost puppy. I would see a squirrel here and there chasing another, or scratching the ground searching for who knows what. It made me smile. In the middle of this chaotic human jungle, I felt at peace here, among the trees and peaceful passerby.

In my search for the Bethesda Fountain, I followed the instructions a nice lady had told me. Keep walking straight, that way you won't miss it, she had said. She had been right.

Children were running wild. Couples were sitting side by side, as the water kept flowing freely from the fountain top. Right behind the fountain, I could see the boats, and more couples enjoying the lovely afternoon without a care. All of it made me yearn for something, someone to share this with.

Recently turning eighteen had granted me the freedom to move alone, to pursue my dream to one day show my work in a known gallery and sell my masterpiece to some millionaire collector. This piece would be my signature as an artist; setting me apart from the rest, the starving artists, the disgruntled performers, and the existential cliques. I would be the spark among the ashes of overused motifs and clichés. It would set them on fire, totally taking the art world by surprise.

A girl can dream.

With a deep sigh, I decided to take a break and enjoy the view. Taking my drawing pad and pencil from my messenger bag, I started to draw the angel at the top of the fountain with its pesky visitors the pigeons, while siting close by the hubbub still going strong around me.

"You sure draw pretty. But I'm better."

I glared at the voice of my intruder and his cocky attitude. As my eyes searched for the owner of the voice, my breathing stopped. Blue orbs, crystal blue were blatantly staring at me. I'm sure I looked like Nemo out of the fish bowl, as my mouth opened and closed.

"I'm Peeta. Peeta Mellark. Nice to meet you?"

This meddler was deterred by my floundering. Giving me a warming smile, totally open and friendly, he was simply introducing himself.

I noticed his golden hair, a bit longer on top, so much it got into his lovely blue eyes. I was tempted to push the wayward strands from his forehead.

Cue in my blushing cheeks.

In a whisper he thought I didn't catch when he said, "Lovely…"

I shook my head and cleared my throat, probably looking a bit insane in the process.

"Katniss. Katniss Everdeen."

He worded my name with his lips, like savoring candy, his tongue peeking out of his mouth. My eyes followed the movement diligently. Clearly, the smog had begun to affect my brain cells, depriving it of rationality in face of this… man.

"Are you hungry? I could take you somewhere and eat the best ice cream you'll ever have. It will be my treat. What do you say?"

The open-close mouth routine was happening again.

"Y-you don't even know me. I don't know you… you could be a killer, a rapist, a thief!"

This Peeta looked into my eyes, and then started to guffaw to my dismay. His belly laughs drew the attention of some of our park neighbors, but they moved on to their earlier activities. He saw my distress, and knew I was about to bolt.

"I'm not gonna kill, rape or steal from you. We are going to the same school. NYU is a big university, but we are both in the same major. I saw you at orientation yesterday… I noticed your gray eyes and your braid as you kept touching the tip. It was like feeling it on your palm was keeping you calm. I'm sorry if I crossed some line by approaching you. I'm here on my own, and I want to make new friends. So, Katniss Everdeen would you be my friend?"

His open hand was waiting for mine, waiting for mine to touch and accept his offer. As I was about to give him my answer, a slight breeze blew and my drawing pad fell a couple of feet away from me. Rapidly, I moved to recover it. I couldn't lose the last drawing I had made of my dad, the last time I saw him.

The pages keep flipping as I approached, kneeling to get it. My unusually let down hair was obstructing my vision, stopping me momentarily. A hand was faster and got a hold of my pad. With tender care he traced the lines of the drawing in the opened page. His eyes looked like they would cry from what they were seeing. Somehow I knew he was looking at my father's sketch.

"I was wrong. You're much better than me."

As he passed me my pad back, I decided Peeta Mellark deserved a second look.

"Yes."

His eyes gazed upon me, as his face brighten with a dazzling smile.

"That's the best word in the world. I wanna hear you say it to me more than once."


End file.
